


Cab Driver

by orphan_account



Category: Achievement Hunter
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Fake AH Crew AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4172202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan has the absolute worst luck with cab drivers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cab Driver

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://neverianding.tumblr.com/post/122000700756/ryan-his-luck-with-cab-drivers) gifset

Usually, Jack provided a getaway car. Or helicopter, on occasion, because there is no way to get a car to the top of the bank to pick everyone up. It just doesn't work, no matter what Geoff said. Sometimes, Michael would have to be behind the wheel of a second car to get everyone out safely.

But it didn't always work out perfectly. Geoff, while most of the time his heists were planned out to the very last detail, made mistakes here and there. Those mistakes typically led to Ryan not having a getaway vehicle. He'd end up stranded in the middle of the military base or in an alley between a convenience store and a daycare, and no one would be able to come pick him up. And sure, he could steal a jet, but then he'd end up getting blown to pieces by explosives as he escaped. He could have stolen that soccer mom's minivan, but that just seemed _wrong_.

So when Ryan ended up stranded, he called a cab. Calling a cab, unfortunately, wasn't a bright idea, either, because he simply had terrible luck when it came to drivers. They always froze when they saw his jacket, covered in blood that was hardly ever his own. It was as if that wasn't _normal_.

The first time he'd had to call a taxi service, it was during his early days with the crew. No one was comfortable around him, and he wasn't comfortable around them. He was silent and mysterious and creepy, and the rest of the guys were petrified of him, and petrified of being stuck in a vehicle with him. Including Geoff. No, scratch that - _especially_ Geoff.

Ryan hadn't been included in either of the escape cars. He pointed that out to the leader of the team as they were all being informed of the plan, to which Geoff replied, "Shit, I dunno, man, call a cab or something. I hear that Uber service is pretty alright."

It was, in fact, _not_  "pretty alright."

As he climbed into the car, he knew this wasn't going to end well. The driver, Sam, he had said, was stock-still when he saw Ryan's infamous skull mask. Or maybe it was the rifle he was carrying. Could've been the blood dripping down the front of his jacket. Who knows? All Ryan really cared about was the fact that the police were after him and Sam hadn't put the car in drive and they were just sitting in the middle of the damned street.

Ryan looked at the guy's hands, trembling on the steering wheel, noticed the ring on his left hand. He was married. Probably had kids, too. Man, Ryan didn't want to have to do this, but the sirens were getting louder.

"Look, Sam, I'm going to count down from ten, and if we don't start moving, you die." This was going to be a mess. Ryan would have to drag the guy's corpse out and then get into the bloodied driver's seat, all while the cops got closer and closer.

He started counting, and Sam wasn't moving, and he pulled out his pistol, and Sam still wasn't moving, and he turned the safety off, and Sam wasn't going fucking anywhere, and Geoff's voice was in his ear, asking where the hell he was at, and Sam was dead as soon as Ryan reached _zero_.

He barely managed to escape after that.

The next time, Ryan was more acquainted with the rest of the Fake AH Crew. They were somewhat comfortable with him. Including Geoff.

Yet, somehow, he had ended up stranded again, after Michael found his tires all slashed, and Jack's car only fit five, and Ryan had been the last one to get his finger to the tip of his nose.

" _Nose Goes_ is not a fair way to decide these things," he'd argued. Ray just closed the door after giving an apologetic shrug.

Ryan pulled out his phone. Called a different cab service, because for some reason, the first one no longer wanted to provide their service to him. Waited in an alley. He didn't have his mask on when the driver got there this time, but his face paint was present, and so was the blood on his jeans. So were the guns, but he had a carry license, so that was perfectly acceptable, he thought.

"I need you to drop me off at the docks," Ryan told his driver.

This time, he actually started driving. But the asshole was chatty. "That's some, uh, interesting face paint," he said.

"Usually I have a mask. But my roommate pissed in it, so I had to send it in to be cleaned," Ryan replied, unable to ignore the guy, because he wasn't raised in a barn - he had manners. By roommate, he meant the British asshole that lived in the same penthouse, the one who liked to get blackout drunk and destroy people's personal property. Prick.

"You'll probably have to send the jeans in, too, huh?" the driver said, as if he was asking about the weather.

Ryan shrugged. "I'll probably just trash 'em. Blood is hard to get out."

"I see."

In his ear, Michael was laughing his ass off. "Are you really having a conversation with this guy? What the fuck? Why? Holy shit!"

"So who're you meeting over at the docks?" the driver asked. "Some friends?"

"Yeah. Hoping to get there before they ditch me like last time." Jack had apologized profusely for that, but Ryan hadn't let it go. The driver nodded.

"I get it. I've been forgotten by some of my buddies, too. They think they've got the headcount right, but never do." He sighed, as if reliving some shitty memory.

"And then the boat's gone, leaving you stuck on the beach," Ryan said. "Bunch of idiots."

The car stopped, parked in the beach's lot. "That'll be fifteen, eighty-four. Exact change, if you can."

Ryan dropped a twenty into the guy's hand, thanked him for the ride, and started walking toward the crew's meeting spot. He was halfway to the sand when the sirens started. They were approaching, it seemed.

Did that asshole-

"Ryan! Did you attract the police?" Geoff snapped.

He looked back over his shoulder to see that the cab was only just pulling away. _Son of a bitch_.

"He dropped me off and called the cops! Motherfucker!" Ryan cried. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted him."

"You dumbass," Jack said. "Hurry up, we've got to hurry out of here."

Ryan refused to call a taxi for a while after that. Thankfully, he didn't really have to. He constantly reminded Geoff to make sure he had an escape route, as well as a backup ride. Just in case.

Six months passed before Ryan needed a ride again, entirely because this wasn't actually a planned heist. Ryan was bored, wanted to rob a convenience store. No big deal. Until he found his motorcycle was gone.

"Fuck!" The penthouse was too far for anyone to come pick him up before the cops came. He needed a cab.

He used a payphone this time, in case his phone number was blacklisted or some bullshit like that.

The driver got about halfway to the apartment building when she had a breakdown. "I can't do this! I just- I can't help a criminal like this!" she sobbed.

"If we don't keep moving, I'm going to have to shoot you," Ryan warned her. Poor girl. But he had to get out of there.

"Just do it," she told him. "But I can't help anyone with blood on their hands."

So Ryan had to shoot a few employees. Big deal. He'd done worse.

He sighed, grabbed a grenade from his bag, and pulled the pin. "Thanks anyway."

As he started jogging toward the penthouse, as the explosion went off behind him, as the sirens started - he decided to never use another cab ever again. Seriously, fuck Uber.


End file.
